


You Were Once Mine, Too | The Arcana (Julian/Asra/Apprentice)

by TheErisToYourDemise



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Female Apprentice (The Arcana), Fluff and Angst, Julian Devorak's Route, Love Triangles, Male Pronouns for Asra (The Arcana), One Shot, Sad, Sweet Asra (The Arcana), The Arcana Visual Novel, Vesuvia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 09:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19315696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheErisToYourDemise/pseuds/TheErisToYourDemise
Summary: Julian Devorak recalls the time when the magician's apprentice was the doctor's apprentice.





	You Were Once Mine, Too | The Arcana (Julian/Asra/Apprentice)

**Author's Note:**

> The tag says Sweet Asra but Asra is protective and hostile to Julian while being sweet to Apprentice.

Julian stared at the wide Vesuvian horizon and sighed in relief. The usual cacophony of the city is toned down in later hours like these, and the only other thing he could hear is the soft beating of gentle rain on sun damaged roofs. He could see most of Vesuvia from his window, all the well-lit paths and all the streets lit only by the dim moonlight, but the rain was starting to get stronger. He took notice of the Flooded District, which stood out almost as much as the Countess’ Palace. Julian once described the city to be the epitome of a violent contrast. One side of the city is cold and cruel to its own people, with beauty only seeping quietly through the cracked walls and paths which the people would kill to salvage; while the other side is built on entertaining deaths, elegant marble and bloody sands. That side is unaware of its flaws and only basks in its own glory. 

Turning his attention away from the doomed city, he looked at the woman laying still on his bed. She snored quietly, holding a fading blanket close to her chest. The sight of her beauty distracted him instantly and he felt the familiar beat in his chest tugging his body closer to her. He knelt beside her sleeping figure and observed her peaceful expression. 

“The moonlight does wonders to her,” He thought. “But then again, she has always been ethereal. I just failed to notice before.” 

He is mesmerized with everything she is, but tonight with the moonlight on her face, her freckles were much more visible. “The delicate golds marked her skin so gorgeously, she might as well be a goddess.” He watches her lips curl to a soft smile as her fingers gently reach out to him. Julian’s pulse quickens, as he finds it hard to believe that she is there - his love and his angel who saves him from most shit he gets into - willingly giving him company after everything that happened. 

He smiles tenderly, wondering how someone so perfect love a wretch who looked away from her the first time. But memories were quick to rush back, and he grimaces at the thought of him leaving her in the clinic as he traveled for the palace. He wrestled with thoughts and excuses. 

He didn’t have a choice in that matter, did he? The palace required service. In the back of his head, he knew he had the choice.

The mistreatment and violence he witnessed would have been unbearable for her. Is not being left alone in the city and being exposed to the plague worse? "Damn. Those were also none of my concerns before." 

He clenched his trembling hands. He bitterly reminded himself that he loved someone else, back then. But, she’s here now and if she found out about what he is thinking, she won’t approve. The last time he joked against himself, he barely escaped the intensity of her gaze. It was a simple reminder that deep inside she still cares. 

Her perfume lingered in the air, mixed with the distinctive stench of Salty Bitters, which she drank eight mugs of. He began to worry for her health, who could drink that much anyway? He lifted a hand to check her temperature, restraining himself from slipping a caress between the small touch. She’s not too hot. He closed his eyes, demanding himself to leave the room. He shouldn’t be this close to her. He must not allow himself to be. 

He felt all his doubts dissolve when she reached for him and took his hand to her cheek. Her eyelids flutter slowly, only for them to close again. 

“Asra.” She called.

Julian feels a sharp pain in his chest. Of course, who else would she be calling for? Asra, of course. Asra who never left her, Asra who comes home to her. He lets go of her hand and pushes himself out of the room. As soon as he left the room, he hears knocking. He freezes, knowing who it is. He opens the door, careful not to make the creaking too loud. 

Asra is visibly tensed in his travel clothes, not minding to conceal a glare. There are shadows under his eyes and his clothes look dustier than usual.

“Good evening, Ilya.” He spoke in a painfully formal manner. Julian flinched. 

“H-hello, Asra.”

“Where’s Aguamarina?” He demands, taking a firm step inside the house, not bothering to take off his scarf or hat.

“Upstairs, she had been drinking.” Julian turns away, finding solace in the fading beauty of his ring.

“How many?”

“Eight, and two glasses of-”

“Why didn’t you take her back to the shop?” Asra scoffed. “I believe you know the way there.”

Julian mumbled, wishing he could find the voice to say that she insisted to stay, the excuse that he was certain that Asra wouldn’t want him stepping inside the shop, too. Asra frowned, and now all Julian can hear is his footsteps up the stairs. 

He’s going to bring her home, to their home. Julian couldn’t do anything but stand and wait for them. Soon, they were on top of the stairs, and she clung to Asra’s neck as he carried her down. He put his lover down on a chair, asking her softly if she can stand. She nodded with a blush. 

“We're going home. I appreciate your help, Ilya. Thank you for looking out for her this time.” 

Julian’s jaw clenched. "This time. Right, because I didn’t look out the first time." 

“No problem... Asra. Take care.” He swallowed, shame heating his cheek. All he wanted was to have a chance to care. He closes the door, careful not to startle her. 

He dragged his body upstairs and lay on his bed. Not even the exhaustion could save him from reprimanding thoughts, such as the fact that the memory of the apprenticeship is something he allowed the Hanged Man to take. After some time, he peeked out of the window, hoping the many forms of beauty in Vesuvia could make him forget just a little bit. Instead, he caught a glimpse of the pair walking to the shop, and the lights appearing not long after. He felt sadness weigh him down, he is losing people he loves for the second time around, this time to each other. He looked up at the sky, asking if the sky believes he is unlovable, too. 

At some point in the night, he had to rest. He tried to lull himself to sleep with fantasies that someday, Vesuvia would remember that the magician’s apprentice was once his apprentice, too. He closed his eyes, wishing he hadn’t fucked up so badly.


End file.
